


Shelter

by EvienStark



Category: Game Grumps, Skyhill (Band)
Genre: Big Fame AU, Bodyguard AU, F/M, Friendship/Love, Mutual Pining, Slight Violence, major angst, the big confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 02:19:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvienStark/pseuds/EvienStark
Summary: When Skyhill takes Dan into ultra-fame, he can barely cope. Even more so when a near miss almost claims his life. It only makes sense to assign him security. But living with someone every day for years has its way of making feelings creep up on you.





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking in. This is just a one-shot AU about exactly what's on the tin. Enjoy!

Looking back at things now, Dan wondered if there really was a trail- a conscious pattern of decisions that led a person to exact moments in time. To say that he’d never expected Skyhill to launch him into the hypothetical atmosphere would be an understatement. Sure, he’d always dreamed of being famous, but it wasn’t until after getting begged to sign with this label, and do this commercial, and sell this thing, and interview with this person, that magazine- well… that wasn’t really the worst of it, honestly. He had learned decent time management. He had coped and even come to appreciate being busy.

But there was something else about fame he just hadn’t anticipated. A shadow monster that he had foolishly thought when he was starry-eyed would be fun. Would be just what he wanted. But leaving his hotel room every time to a swarm of screaming young women and men had just become tiresome after a while. It wasn’t that he had no appreciation for his fans, just the opposite. He loved them. Dearly. With all his rockstar heart. He wouldn’t be who he was today, after all, were it not for their constant devotion.

It was just… there were _so many_ of them. Everywhere.  
All the time.

He’d switched addresses no less than three times now, having been forced to move to a gated community with other celebrities and musicians who waxed poetic about the dangers of fame. Something he hated listening to. They all sounded so tired. So disappointed and disparaged with how their lives had ended up. And the more he was forced to listen to it every now and again the more he realized he didn’t want to end up like that.

Even if some fans were obsessive to the point of dangerous.  
Even if he could no longer tell his friends from people just looking to make money.  
Even if he hadn’t had a trusting, loving, successful relationship in years.

And even when all of that led him into a deep depressive bubble, he still tried to find humor and happiness in it all. He’d wanted to be a famous musician ever since he could remember (at the very least if he couldn’t play with dinosaur bones), but now he was starting to realize maybe all he ever really wanted to do was make music. Not be it.

The best thing that had ever happened to him came out of the worst situation he’d ever been in. A fan with a knife in a place that was supposed to be vetted. That he was supposed to be safe. But he hadn’t been, he’d realized, and it made him come to terms with the fact that he’d never _once_ been safe. It all had just been luck and timing. Some of which had seemed to run thin on him. A mistake he couldn’t afford to overlook again.

Imagine the tabloid’s and paparazzi’s surprise (and disgusting glee) when a short, stern looking woman started appearing by his side everywhere he was photographed (which was basically any place he ever was if it wasn’t home). It was obvious who she was and yet they decided against what little integrity anyone could say of them to look the other way and start rumors about a relationship. It didn’t help that she was a veritable mystery. No information on her. No one could find a single thing.

All they knew was she may have been very attractive, if she let her hair down and took her sunglasses off and smiled once in a while. She may have had a nice body, if she ever took off that suit and tie. She may have been this and may have been that (not the least of which, for months at a time, a threat to the band. Who could resist a good Yoko Ono story?), but one thing was for certain. Wherever Danny went, so did she.

And another close call never happened again.  
At least it seemed that way to the public.

But she knew better. She knew of how many close calls Dan brought on himself by being himself. And sometimes she thought he was more trouble than he was worth… well… maybe at the beginning she’d thought that.

He hated rules. He hated being told where he could and couldn’t go (more accurately just the _couldn’t_ part). That made him a difficult client. That made him a danger to himself. He didn’t listen well unless she tightened her voice and made it clear she was being serious, which she had to do more often than not. But she was being paid good money to protect the world’s biggest rockstar, so she did. And that was all she cared about.

At first.

And then… well… not that she’d ever report it, and not that she’d ever say it aloud (since doing either would not only risk her job and career, but would be a blow to the woman she’d built herself up to be), but, Dan was… sort of charming. Beneath the persona he put on on stage, he seemed like just such a _normal_ guy. He wanted the same things everyone else wanted. Maybe even more than regular people wanted them.

He just wanted a life outside of what he’d been caged in. And he wanted to be happy. There was nothing wrong with that. That was what she was there to provide for him, in fact. But eventually it was less of a job and it just started making her happy to be able to give him that. Which was already dangerous. She’d gotten too close. It was difficult not to, she’d told herself more than once (excuses, excuses…), because for days on end sometimes the only real people the two of them would have to talk to were each other.

How could you not get close when you were the only two in a car driving for hours?  
Or the only two in a hotel room?  
The only two in a sound studio late at night?  
And then sometimes… it felt like… the only two people in the world.

He made her laugh, and really that was the start of the downfall. He made her smile, and that was more trouble than it was worth.

But for Dan, it was _everything_ .  
He’d been cold but accepting to her perpetual presence in his life, the former because that’s how she seemed to be to him. But she was _always_ there. More than his so-called friends. More than his family now. More than anyone else. There was no way he could continue on basically living with her at his side without getting to know her. She was resistant, at first, but eventually he’d crack her. Say something stupid or get caught on the edge of a table and she’d turn her head away to hide a smile.

It was when she tried to hide a laugh that he really got her. And that was the end of it.

They started talking more. They opened up. They shared things they’d never tell to anyone else. Sometimes she’d protest. That this wasn’t part of the job. And he’d tell her-

_I don’t want it to be._

Because he wanted her. Not her services.  
And soon he wasn’t just a client to her. He was someone she could barely live without. A fantastic idea, seeing as they were contracted to one another.

For safety, she reminded herself that evening.  
Tonight wasn’t a good night for Dan to be poking at her sides in his dressing room. It wasn’t a good night for him to be trying to crack jokes. Something was in the air. She could feel it. And she was good at that.

“Knock it off.” Stern as she knocked his hand away from her hip, eyes only a quarter open, ear almost to the door.

“I’m getting cabin fever.” This was a playful warning at best.

They’d gone through his after-show rituals. He was better rested and more cognizant, which was good. This had been a huge stadium show and now her only job was to get him to the car safely even while knowing there were thousands of fans lurking around trying to get at him. But they’d been waiting extra long this time, and both of them were starting to get antsy. It was just the risk of there being people _other_ than fans waiting around was high tonight.

“I’m waiting for the car. Same as you.” Giving him only one look that basically begged him to stop joking around and just listen to her. While she alone was assigned to Dan’s personal being, they did have a team when it was necessary. And at shows it always was. She was waiting for a call. The fact that it had been so long wasn’t a good feeling.

He eased back, arms crossing low over his stomach. “...is there a situation?” He hated using those words. _A situation_. But that’s what she’d call it. That’s what it would be. And he wanted nothing more for there to just have been a mix-up with cars than… _a situation_.

Him getting anxious, though, wasn’t going to help matters. “If there is I would know. And then you would know.” Because god forbid she let Dan blindly run through something dangerous. Not with his propensity for nonsense.

“ _Abri_...” His hand brushed hers, fingers working up the inside of her palm, nickname he’d given her years back now (surprising her at the time of inception with its corniness hidden in a different language) slipping from him warmly. He was nervous. He just wanted things to be okay.

She took a deep breath.  
In…  
And then out, letting go of the sound.  
The way he’d taught her.

Static came over her earpiece just in time followed by succinct directions.

“Let’s go now.”

The hallways were visually, blessedly, empty when she opened the door. But that by no means meant they were alone. Despite it being far more secure to have both hands on a weapon in this high-alert situation, her right was in his left instead. Because he’d grabbed it. Which was no excuse. She should know better. But she was just escorting him, she told herself. Like the hundreds of other times she’d walked him somewhere the same way. It made him more at ease, so that’s why she did it.

That’s what she told her superiors when photographers had taken pictures of it. And that’s all it was.

Lying had become so easy when Dan was involved. It was worse when he knew and didn’t seem to mind her blaming him. Far worse. She had become a coward.

Security relayed that they’d cleared most of the fans out but that there was a small, easily dealt with, crowd behind ropes now. Not more than fifteen. It’s not what she wanted, but she could handle it. She could tell that when she let go of Dan’s hand and told him to stay to her right he wasn’t really listening, so she shoved him there just as they got outside. _Tonight wasn’t the night to do this._ But she had no time to scold him.

It was hours past midnight but with all the camera lights on and going off it may as well have been day. She shielded him, as she was used to, inwardly realizing her failure to get him to put on a pair of sunglasses before they left. The walk to the car was about the longest stretch of feet she’d ever taken with him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. This was standard. Nothing was wrong. But she couldn’t shake the sense none of that was true.

She didn’t want her intuition to be rewarded as strongly as it was.

It happened faster than people knew how to react. And when it went on longer for that, the bystander effect held steady.

Someone had rushed by the crowd.  
Someone had bounded up to them within a couple seconds at best.  
He had a knife.

She had shoved Dan out of the way with a hipcheck, almost slamming him against the car as she brought her hands up to try and disarm the attacker. But he caught her sideways with a slam to her knee, dropping her slightly. The knife went in. Where exactly she had no idea, she had no time to think about that. Instead she slid up, throwing force behind a punch to his throat. It was easier after that.

Twisting his wrist hard enough to break, too much force to simply get him to drop the knife, but who would argue the point. People were screaming. Some were filming. Some had run. Panic had set in a long time ago (really only a minute) and there was no controlling them now. Hysteria was a harder thing to protect from. So she let the bulky men in suits at the front of the car surround him while she shoved Dan inside the back and they jerked off the sidewalk in a screech.

Dan, she realized, had been screaming too. But the sound of him was a dull buzz as she shrugged out of her jacket and radio and ripped the sleeve off her shirt to inspect the damage-

“-the fucking hospital!”

This she caught.  
  
_Where to?,_ she assumed had been the driver’s question. “No. Go to the hotel.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! You got fucking stabbed!” He was yelling, but not really at her. And he was more crazed than she’d ever seen him.

This wasn’t going to help things. So she took his hand in hers, yanking him right up against her side, closing his hand over the wound. “It’s not that bad. It’s shallow. It’ll stop bleeding before we even get there. And I’ll go to the hospital when I have you settled and when someone comes to relieve-”

“ _Fuck you._ ” They caught eyes in the darkness and he looked like a wild, angry animal. The driver dutifully kept his eyes forward and then put the backseat glass up. Wise, wise man.

“What??” She could barely understand what was happening. He’d never said that to her before- at least not in a way that sounded like he meant it.

“I said fuck you, _Abri_.” She wasn’t sure if the petname was meant to make it hurt more or less. It the moment, it stung, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. “This isn’t about a fucking- that wasn’t- fuck you!” He was struggling. Not one of his best moments.

She set her mouth in a firm line. “Would you stop fucking cursing at me and use your big boy words? What’s the matter with you?” Trying to keep calm and level.

Which only seemed to piss him off more. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you! This isn’t about a fucking job! You just got fucking stabbed. Because of me! And I didn’t- I didn’t even fucking do anything about it! And you _still_ won’t let me do anything about it!”

“You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Dan! You got out of the way and let me handle it!” What on earth was he going on about? Why now? They’d had moments of danger before, sure never anything like this, but still… “And when we get to the hotel, I’ll get somebody to watch your door and then I’ll go to the fucking hospital to get my shame stitches- and then I’ll write a report-”

“God- fuck you.” His voice dropped to a low growl in time with his head swaying down.

Then it got a million times worse. Worse than failing a routine security check at the back of a venue. Worse than getting injured when she should have been able to take that guy out no problem-

Worse than anything she could have ever imagined.

She felt the telltale drips of tears along the back of her hand.  
_She had made Dan cry._

“Dan…” Even worse still, she had no idea why. Or what to do about it. Reaching up she tried to tilt his face back to look at her, and what was there somehow was far more upsetting. She clearly knew he was crying, but seeing it in the low light of the car was heartbreaking.

“I’m not a job- I’m not a fucking job- I didn’t think… I thought we were past that- but… but that’s all you care about. I’m work. I’m point-a-to-point-b. I’m a drop off. I thought- … I really thought...”

Having to come to terms with that he’d been so incredibly foolish to think she’d been anything different from anyone else in his life was gut wrenching. He was just a paycheck to her. Maybe getting along made it easier to do her job. In fact, that’s exactly what it was.

She had no reference to deal with this.  
She had no idea what to do. Words failed her, but she couldn’t keep sitting there with his shaky grip on her bloody arm while he cried himself out, mostly silent as it was.

“I-… you _are_ a job. You’re my job. I’m supposed to protect you. That’s what I’m supposed to do. That’s what I _do._ ” He turned his head away sharply like she’d reached out and hit him. “But- Dan… you know… it’s-” Having too much trouble with putting voice to that comfortable cloud the both of them had been content on not naming. “It’s not just that. But this-” She wiggled her arm, satisfied with the pain it brought. Much easier to deal with. “-this is part of it.”

He only looked at her briefly before turning his head away again. “Just fucking stop. You don’t have to make me feel better.”

Now, finally, she got to be angry. “Oh, shut the fuck up, would you? Of course I do. Even if-… you know, even if we were… _whatever._ In some other life or _whatever..._ ” She couldn’t stress this enough. “You suck. You’re not good in a fight. What did you wanna do? Hit him? You and I both know that would’ve turned to shit.” She felt so much better when he just barely cracked a smile, clearly trying to keep himself from doing so. “I would much rather take down anyone that comes near either of us. Because I know I can. And because I want to-” That knowledge had been there all along but she had been keeping it down. “I want to protect you. I could get fired tomorrow morning and I still would want to.” This was all making her feel weird, though. “So… just shut up. Stop crying.” Thinking better of it, gently she added, “...please. Because you know none of that shit is true.”

They pulled up onto the side of the hotel, the bright lights overhead spilling into the backseat. He looked just as unsure as he felt (though really he was very grateful to listen to her spill her guts). “...are you gonna say it?”

He wanted it so badly. Needed it. Needed it from her. But she seemed determined not to go there. And he didn’t know how much longer he could take it. It was unfair, to put all that on her, but he suddenly couldn’t stop himself. They were so close to that line. And he just… he _needed_ something- _someone_ to be real to him for once.

It had to be her.  
Because it wasn’t anyone else anymore. And it probably never would be again. Not like this.

But she just gave him a dark look and ushered him out of the car. He followed in her wake with heavy steps, into the lobby, across, and into the gold-service elevator. It was unbearable in that small space. He kept stealing looks at her but she had her eyes forward, holding her own arm now (and he was grateful that she’d been right and that it had been very shallow and the blood had stopped, but that wasn’t going to stop his insistence she still needed to go to the hospital). He felt utterly awful. Like he’d just ruined everything. No going back.

She practically threw him into his hotel room after opening the door and she stood there, finally looking up at him, but was postured to step back and leave at any moment. She took a deep breath, and he became frightened of what was coming with it. “Dan-”

“I love you.”

They stared at each other, frozen. Scared of what they other might do next that would shatter everything they’d built in the last five years. An eternity passed in that unbreathable silence.

And the next move broke it all.

She let the door slam shut behind her.  
Just as well as he’d taken her up against it, like somehow they’d just known this was where they’d end up.

His lips were on hers, drinking in the sound of her ragged breathing and half moans, her hands yanking the zipper on his jacket and tugging it off. Shirt next. Barely interrupted. “This is stupid-” She was protesting, but not in the way that would put a stop to any of it. “This is so fucking stupid-”

But they were far beyond that.  
They’d been beyond that for so long now. And Dan had somehow been less of a coward than her in seeking it out. It knowing it. In speaking it. She was supposed to be the stronger of the two of them. That was her job. But his emotional fragility somehow put him leaps and bounds beyond her.

He had her by her hips so quickly and the both of them almost wished they’d slow down to make sense of this. _Almost_. But it was the heat of her skin on his as he held her up against the door, the feel of him filling her so completely, the feel of his wild hair in her hands and the sound of their desperate groans washed together in another deep kiss-

“I love you...”

“I love you, I love you, I love you...”

 

It finally made sense then.


End file.
